


Collateral Damage

by shinesurge



Category: Kidd Commander (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Discord shenanigans, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 14:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15775659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinesurge/pseuds/shinesurge
Summary: Ulrich just wanted to bake cookies.





	Collateral Damage

**Author's Note:**

> The [KC discord](https://discordapp.com/invite/3VP8nR9) is a terrible influence.
> 
> I'm not sure I'm going anywhere with this, but it was a fun little prompt hehe. Features the usual kinds of grossness that tends to come with vampires so if blood or coercion or any of that sort of thing upsets you maybe skip this one.

Ulrich knew something was wrong as soon as he turned onto his street, and he only became more certain as he backed into the garage. He flicked the switch that set the garage door to closing and took his time, not deviating from his routine; white leather gloves back in their compartment, checking to make _sure_ his headlights were out before turning the car off, slipping his thinner black gloves back over his hands. He stepped out of the vehicle and locked it, walked around to open the trunk, all with the same warped key. It had been with him so long he'd never had the heart to have a more modern system installed; relatively speaking the car was almost as old as he was and it was reassuring that it was still around and useful without modifications. He retrieved his unremarkable groceries without incident, closed the trunk, moved with unhurried steps through the pitch-black of the quiet garage to let himself into his house. 

The house was also completely dark, but Ulrich knew something was waiting for him. He felt two pulses in the shadows, and he only owned one cat.

Ulrich calmly closed the door, taking stock of his surroundings. Cheshire was locked in his bedroom, set to yowling when he heard Ulrich come in, and the other warm body was waiting in the kitchen by the door. He left the lights off and dropped his reusable shopping bags by the door, slipped his keys into his overcoat pocket, in the same motion checking his gun in its holster at his hip. 

Satisfied, he unbuttoned his coat and hung it up on its hook, put away his hat, turned and walked at a leisurely pace down the hallway towards his kitchen. In the stillness the intruder may as well have been smashing his china plates; their heart was hammering away in their chest and the smell of their blood was drawing his canines down to their sharp points, pooling sedative under his tongue. He grimaced; he didn't particularly enjoy feeding on people to begin with and he didn't _need_ to for another week or so. But it was less messy than explaining a gunshot if his neighbors elected to call the police, and surely one fewer home invader in the world wouldn't trouble anyone.

He braced to turn the corner, feeling cool pressure build behind his eyes as he summoned up his charm. 

He rounded upon the pulse, hitting the lightswitch as his eyes flashed and launched their stored energy directly into a sack of potatoes perched on a chair. 

Ah. 

Before the frying pan (his _own very **expensive** _ frying pan) could connect with the back of his head Ulrich swept out of the way, gracefully grasped the bandaged wrist that arced near his ear and twisted until he heard an enraged shriek, then a blade was tearing at his back and that would need _sewing_ this was getting _ridiculous-_

Ulrich gripped the wrist in his hand and dragged the arm attached to it around in front of him. (She) connected with the wall hard enough to knock the wind from her, but to her credit she managed to drive her weapon deep between Ulrich's ribs before he tangled his fingers in her hair and jerked her head back to hit her with what was left of the charm he'd worked up. This time his icy blue eyes met a pair of furious bottle green ones and she slackened under his hold. She was already sliding down the wall to the floor before Ulrich grabbed her by the front of the filthy poncho draped around her. 

"That was impolite," he sneered. He was bleeding _all over_ his ripped shirt and the knife _stung_ and Cheshire was still calling pitifully from the other room. Ulrich had just needed to pick up _almond flour_ god dammit.

The girl was shaking her head slightly and uttering nonsense, her fluff of pink hair drifting with her; clearly still trying to fight off his influence. But Ulrich was much older than she seemed to be, and he'd done this far too many times and it had been a _ages_ since a human had managed to shake it off. 

"...f-uck," she managed. Ulrich kept her pinned with one hand and gingerly removed the knife from his chest with the other. The hilt was covered in runes that made his skin numb where it came in contact, but it wasn't anything close to the sort of symbols that were necessary to do any real damage. He tossed it to the side and the girl made a tiny indignant noise. 

"And you locked up my cat!" Ulrich groused, digging in his pocket for an alcohol pad. The girl was grabbing at the hand holding her up and leaving dirty fingerprints on his sleeve. 

"didnt...didnt wanna hurt him..." Ugh he shouldn't have started a conversation, he always talked too much when he decided to bite somebody. He dropped her to her feet so he could tear open the paper packet he'd found and she immediately slumped forward, her hands weakly clawing at his chest. It took Ulrich a second to realize she was still trying to hurt him. Ulrich pressed his palm to her shoulder and shoved her backwards until she lost her balance and tipped against the wall again. He looked her over to find the artery in her neck and realized the poncho she was wearing was blocking her vital signs, and was likely what she'd used to cast them onto the decoy to try and confuse him. He snorted.

"Where did you get _this_ old thing?" he mused, feeling along the canvas, burnt orange and worn soft with age. "I didn't even know they still made them." 

"...dont," she mumbled, the rest of her sentence unclear. Ulrich set to working on the wooden clasps and winced as they burned his fingertips. The girl's tailor was much more competent than her bladesmith. The garment slid from her shoulders and she grumbled more wordless dissent, just managing to catch the hem in one loose fist before it could finish pooling around her bare feet. Oh _gross._

"Why aren't you wearing _shoes?"_

She said something angry, or maybe she thought she did, but Ulrich couldn't make any of it out. He tilted her head and scrubbed the side of her neck with the disinfectant wipe. With her unoccupied hand, the girl made another attempt to push him away and Ulrich sighed heavily, brushing her off easily and dropping the wipe to deal with later. He held her shoulders in place and ducked his head to speak lowly into her ear.

"I assure you this is much less pleasant for me than it is for you." Steeling himself, he drew his tongue across her skin, waited a few beats, then unceremoniously sank his teeth into her neck. Her blood burst over his tongue (hot and citrus and sawdust, enough sour tang to hurt his jaw) and he fought the urge to recoil. It was the damndest thing, every unconscious instinct in his body demanded this and delighted in the sensation of dragging the life force out of another; his teeth itched for it in their sockets when he went about his day, his own pulse quickened when he smelled a fluttering heart close by and he was _always fucking hungry._ But _he, Ulrich_ couldn't stand it. He wore gloves and long sleeves to avoid touching others and on bad days he wore a face mask because humans were so _disgusting_ and just because he couldn't get properly sick didn't mean he liked the idea of breathing the same air as everyone else. Getting close enough to bury his fangs into a stranger's neck and consume a bodily fluid (potentially with GOD KNOWS what sort of disease) was a special kind of torment. Unfortunately, Ulrich _did_ enjoy living, so he swallowed down what he drew and through his teeth he felt the threads of her lifeforce empty into his head. She was startlingly bright, golden yellow lightning shining almost painfully in his eyes. He learned she was kind, and ambitious, and hardly even an adult auuugh god dammit.

She made some sort of weak complaint when her skin broke but otherwise stayed still; he hadn't been dishonest, he was always careful to numb his victims first. He had no interest in causing pain or, frankly, dealing with the mess that struggling prey often caused. Between that and his lingering charm the girl should hardly be aware what was happening at all. It would be painless, he reminded himself. She had broken into his house and tried to _kill him!_ He felt her getting weaker under his hold and, cursing to himself and his screaming instincts, Ulrich pulled away from her neck. His neat technique went to waste as blood pumped weakly from the puncture, seeping into her shirt and coating his lips.

"How _old are you."_ he growled. Her head was lolling to one side and her glassy eyes were only just visible through her lashes, staring over his shoulder at nothing. It took her a moment to answer.

"..twenny-too..." she slurred softly. Ach she was a _baby._ And she had moved his cat into his bedroom so it wouldn't get _hurt._ Christ. 

Ulrich sighed morosely and licked the wound he'd made before he could change his mind, shuddering inwardly. The bite melded closed and Ulrich stepped backwards, keeping his grip on her shoulders long enough to set her against the wall before letting go. She blinked at him twice. The alertness suddenly returned to her eyes and she lunged for him with a snarl he almost found impressive. She managed to pull herself against his chest before her eyes rolled back and she collapsed. Ulrich caught her easily under the arms.

"Nope, now is not naptime," he huffed, hoisting her up and into one of the chairs around the kitchen island. She struggled feebly, physically still too weak to fight but mad as hell now that Ulrich had lifted the spell.

"What are you doing?" she demanded groggily. Ulrich left her there, her feet dangling above the floor in the tall chair, and crossed to the refrigerator. She shifted uselessly, trying to turn to keep him in her line of sight. He rummaged in one of the doors for a moment before taking out a pink tupperware container and a bottle of water. 

"What's this?" she spat. Ulrich set them on the counter in front of her and removed the lid to the box. Inside were half a dozen macarons of varying sizes and colors. None were particularly pretty. 

"I'm going to get my cat." he responded flatly. He licked his lips and then, uncharacteristically, wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his ruined shirt. "You should really eat something."


End file.
